The first time I went out to shovel snow last week, I was excited. Last winter brought only two snowstorms and neither produced enough snow to really need to shovel or plow, so our snow shovel was hanging in the garage, neglected for a long year. I apologized to the shovel for ignoring him for so long and asked him to help me out with my job for the day.
The shovel was silent, but his body language showed that he readily agreed to be my partner.
I was ready to tackle the huge drift the wind deposited across my driveway. By huge, I mean two feet of snow in a drift about 30 feet long which completely divided my driveway. There was no way I’d be able to get the van out of the garage if the drift was to stay.
I took a running start at the drift, carved into it like I was frosting a cake, whittled it down, pushed the snow far up into the yard. Back and forth I trudged until the drift was moved onto the grass and off the driveway. I practically skipped into the garage to hang up the shovel, then returned triumphantly to the house to strip off layers of cold and awaken my toes.
Sure, it would have been easier to use the tractor to plow the driveway, but I didn’t know how to use it and didn’t want to ruin the tractor trying. With Scott in New Orleans, the challenge was mine and I wanted to take it on, to conquer it with my own resourcefulness and determination.
I went to bed satisfied in myself, pleased that I had gotten a huge task done with only the help of my willing and dependable shovel.
But the winds kept up all night.
I awakened to find the drift had returned. It wasn’t as large, but it was there.
I rallied and charged once more into the breach. The shovel and I were old friends by now, and we worked together to move the drift again in time to get the kids to school and me to work, though we were aided by a two-hour delay for the school.
I won’t lie: each step was harder the second time around. I had to push the snow over the bank I had created the day before and my back and shoulders were screaming with the effort. When I finished this time, I hung an exhausted shovel in the garage and clumped inside to get the kids ready for school.
The winds howled all day.
When I came home from work, the drift had started to reform. It wasn’t yet high enough to cause issues driving, so I let it go in hopes that it wouldn’t return to full strength before I did. If I ignored it long enough, I might just will it out of existence.
That night, the temperatures dropped as the wind screamed past the windows. I dressed the twins in two layers of pajamas for the night and the rest of us bundled under blankets to ward off the shivers.
When I awoke, the drift was back and was as tall as the original.
I sighed and reluctantly bundled one more time to get out there and move the snow.
But this time, the shovel went on strike. The cold temperatures had frozen the snow; there was a crust over everything and the dull and sturdy shovel couldn’t break through, couldn’t attack the snow. I glared at the sullen shovel and hung him back up in the garage, silently cursing his impotence.
What could I use to move the snow? Leaving it wasn’t an option. I tried another snow shovel, but it, too, was repelled. I tried a garden shovel, but it moved such a small amount of snow for the effort that I couldn’t use it an expect to get the drift cleared in time to get the kids to school.
So I grabbed our pitchfork and stabbed it into the snow, pulled up plates of frozen snow like scabs and flung them over my shoulder. For an hour and a half I plugged away at the drift; I panicked when the school bus flew by — it was a warning that the kids had twenty minutes before we needed to leave for school and work. I jabbed the snow furiously, broke it up, chewed it, ground it, and finally made enough of a dent in the drift to get the van in and out of the garage.
Then I took the pitchfork back into the garage and hung it near the shovel, who pouted and dripped melted snow like tears on the garage floor.
Look, I’m sorry, shovel buddy. You just couldn’t get the job done, so I’ve moved on from our affair. Honestly, if you can’t go three rounds with me, I’m not sure I’m gonna call you my main man.
Now, that pitchfork over there? He’s got some potential…
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Souper Sutff
Ugh, I hate shoveling and it doesn’t thrill my husband either. When we were living in NYC it was obviously never an issue, but now that we moved to the suburbs and own a house, it’s more of a problem, and my husband has been researching snow blowers to neither of us has to get out there in the freezing cold.
Samantha Brinn Merel recently posted..Don’t Take the Left Elevator
We have a snowblower, but it isn’t in working order right now. Sigh…
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
I am shivering just thinking about this cold snowy business. I love your spirit and I love the verb rally. So well done, as per usual.
Thank you, ma’am! I love the verb rally, too
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
Wow, you are fierce, girl! I’m from L.A., and I KNOW I couldn’t handle that type of weather!
Natalie the Singingfool recently posted..Thank Goodness I Don’t Look Like Keith Richards Yet
I think it’s a matter of what you’re used to, though I have loved the climate in LA every time I’ve visited.
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
I feel like I got a work out reading this post! Vivid and funny
winopants recently posted..The Adventures of Teddy and Miss Tutu
Yes, I skipped the treadmill both days
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
the first snow shovel is lovely, by the second and third, i’m wishing for summer. that last one, i really felt for you. i might have just bailed on the day. but you and your pitch fork you made it work. great job (on the snow and the post!)
Thank you — the first is fun! But it goes downhill rapidly from there.
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
Ugh…that will be me on Friday
Good luck!
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
I hate shoveling. We get wet heavy snow. We get berms made of ice four to six feet high.
Word to the wise? If for any reason your handy pitchfork goes missing…. pickaxes work well.
gem recently posted..First Love
I’ll keep the pickaxe in mind! He might become my back-up fella…
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
Wow, you had a serious Sisyphus thing going on with that snow drift, didn’t you? Thank goodness for that pitchfork. He’s a handy fella.
Kathleen recently posted..Class of 2017
Yep — quite a persistent drift. I’m glad the pitchfork was around, too.
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
Any post where problems are stabbed away with a pitch fork is gold in my book! Gold, I say!
Eureka! And stabbing with a pitchfork IS awesome. All kinds of awesome!
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
I always think, “Yay! Shoveling! What a great workout!” But then it’s only fun that first time when it’s the fluffy stuff. Anything else, and my shovel always craps out.
I’ve never tried a pitchfork . . .
that cynking feeling recently posted..Whee!
Yes, you need the first time to be fun and to remind you of how excited you used to get when it snowed and you were a kid. Anything after that is tedious.
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
Perhaps I wouldn’t say this if I had ever lived in a place where I actually had to shovel snow, but I’ve always wished that I lived in a place where I had to shovel snow. I’m not sure why, but it just seems. . .kind of simple and romantic and necessary. . . but maybe that’s just the sunny southern California kid in me speaking. . . the xenophile. . .
Jared Karol recently posted..On the Underestimation of Breathing
I’m sure it’s the same thing with chopping wood — seems all romantic and lovely until you actually have to do it, then it’s just work.
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
Your first sentence amazed me – excited about shoveling? You’re a better woman than I. I just wait until a neighbor with a snow blower shows up to rescue me.
Yay for nice neighbors! We have one neighbor and he avoids us because we share a well and he’s supposed to pay us every month and has never paid us once. Don’t think he’d help me with the snow…
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
Two teenage boys in my house means never having to shovel or take out the garbage. Once they’re off to college, I’ll have to deal with shoveling again.
Marcy recently posted..Laughter from a Bright Yellow Sweater
Glad to hear that I’ll have helpers when the kids get older
It’s your Old Man and the Sea!!!
That drift is my Moby Dick. Call me Ishmael…
Loved this! I despise snow. I hate when nature puts the snow back where you just moved it from. And it always seems to do that, right? We have a storm coming in a few days. I’m already dreading it.
Michelle Longo recently posted..I Have A Decision To Make.
Hang tight!
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
Yup – I would never even think about being excited about shoveling snow. You are a good woman!
Name * recently posted..Hidden Blessings
Sometimes the more daunting a task, the more you want to take it on – at least for me.
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
Nothing worse than an impotent shovel!
. I love how you use the analogy of main man and the imagery of melted snow as tears on the garage floor. Well done as always!
Mod Mom Beyond IndieDom recently posted..Bag O’ Tricks
Thank you! The shovel honestly looked like it had been crying — that was the inspiration for the comparison.
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
Well told story! I lived most of my life in PA, so I’ve shoveled many a driveway and had several failed relationships with various shovels. I cheated on them with the garden tools, but in the end I left the shovel dating scene completely. Shoveling is for the birds.
Dana recently posted..Boomerang
Glad you escaped the humdrum of the shovel circuit.
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
I never once enjoyed shoveling the driveway, and that is probably the best part of having moved away from my hometown. No snowstorms. I never found the glamour in the shovel the way you did. And who knew a pitch fork had such power?
TriGirl recently posted..Pre-Run Calisthenics are Pretty Dynamic
That pitchfork is my new go-to. He was seriously awesome!
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
Impressive post. How did you manage to make shoveling seem magical? It’s the worst thing ever … ever.
Oh, come now — shoveling can’t possibly be the worst thing ever. I’d reserve that for mucking out the chicken coop or dumpster diving for a lost retainer. They are physical work plus stench. Stench is way worse than sweating a bit.
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
So far I’ve managed to avoid most of the shoveling this year – just the front deck was unavoidable. Your post has me craving spring again. d
My Half Assed Life recently posted..The Pride And The Fall
Yes, spring sounds so nice — can’t wait to see the green grass again!
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
This reminds me so much of those anthropomorphic mop commercials! You have much more stamina than I do. We sold our house and bought a condo just so we wouldn’t have to shovel snow anymore. And tomorrow? two feet expected. No more affairs with the shovel for me…
bill dameron recently posted..The Not So Friendly Skies
Good luck with the storm, Bill!
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
Ha ha ha! Great image. I love the “three rounds” line too. I definitely wouldn’t have something as brawny as a pitchfork around to help me with a snow drift…I’ll have to work on that.
Esther recently posted..Throwing out condoms
Having a pitchfork around is bad-ass. I know that now and will never be without…
IASoupMama recently posted..Crash
Oh how agonizing, but I loved the story! I shoveled snow last week but only two inches. It was a warm up for the foot we’re going to get tomorrow and Saturday. My shoveling muscles are ready – and I’m praying for no wind b/c I don’t have a pitchfok!
Good luck with the weather! Hope you don’t have to borrow a pitchfork…
Wind drifts are the WORST! I hope you all manage to stay warm, and that the snow stays obediently put this time.
Stephanie recently posted..It’s snowing. Again.
Thank you — the snow stayed put that last time, but most of it is gone because it’s been raining all day. Now it’s a muddy, muddy mess out there.
On the eve of the big Nor’easter in NJ, reading this post made me shiver. Great story, well told.
erin graves recently posted..For the Love of Words
Thank you — hope you weren’t buried in the snow!
After leaving our snow shovels in our garage during a snow blizzard, my husband K had to wade through thigh-high snow, to retrieve them to start shoveling out the driveway and paths. Next time, we left them near our front door, which was a lot more convenient.
Piracetam recently posted..No last blog posts to return.